Some days I swear that parts of my life have been taken right out of an album by The Fray. Between work, school, family, and whatever issues the Mustang decides to throw at us on any given day, I can’t help but feel I’m in over my head.
The new semester starts today. I’m nowhere near ready for that to happen. I’m not geared up to give my nights and weekends back to the University of North Texas and its English program. I’m not prepared to put my DVR and Netflix queues on hold for the next few months because I’ll be too busy studying. From the assigned book list for my American Fiction class, it seems I will be reading seven or eight novels between now and the beginning of May. I didn’t read seven or eight novels in 2010.
I’ll also be retaking the Spanish class that I got an “F” in last semester. Nothing like being told you suck in a language you have trouble comprehending. Someone should suggest to the colleges and universities in Texas that they consider offering Restaurant Spanish as an acceptable option for those pursuing an English degree. I'd even settle for Landscape Spanish.
The brakes on the Mustang are dead. Again. Not dead, dead like last time. Just different, dead. I guess there’s a leak? Or maybe it’s that not enough of a vacuum is getting created in the something-or-other? I’m thinking it’s a wheel cylinder. Or a master cylinder. But like last semester’s Spanish class, I don’t have much of a clue. They’re just dead. Muerto.
Various heater components, ignition switches, and wiring harnesses have taken up residence in the corner of our bedroom waiting for me to do something with them. I’d love to oblige, but the Mustang has been at the mechanic’s shop for two weeks. He hasn’t been able to even assess the situation because the cold weather has him too bogged down with work to be able to thoroughly dig into the latest situation with the brakes and tell me just how dead they are. I was supposed to work on the car the last two weekends. Now I don’t know when I’ll have another free weekend, leaving the parts to continue to collect dust.
Because we’ve been down to one car the last six weeks, I’ve been working from 5:30 in the morning until 5 or 6 in the evening. That’s not to say the extra hours haven’t been beneficial to my workday, but now that the winter break has come and gone I feel like I’ve barely spent any quality time with my family. All I want to do when I get home is veg on the couch and stare at whatever’s on the television.
This isn’t so different from every other day, but at least on those days I was coherent enough to talk to or interact with my family. Now I’m like the crotchety old uncle on an episode of "Murder She Wrote” that keeps hanging on out of nothing more than spite to prevent his nieces and nephews from collecting on his will. Fortunately I’m worth next to nothing, so the chances of my being murdered in a room that’s locked from the inside are pretty slim.
The ability to get a good night’s sleep has abandoned me. That’s not to say I’m not sleeping at all, because I am. It’s just that what sleep I am getting is not restful. My mind won’t shut down and I’ve been having at least five or six different vivid dreams a night. Usually those dreams are a welcome respite from the things that bog me down during the day, but not lately. These particular dreams are chaotic. Nightmarish. I’d give just about anything right now for the oldie but goodie that leaves me showing up to the first night of class wearing only boxers and a t-shirt. When I got dressed this morning I made sure to match – just in case.
I get that I need to do a better job of thinking “big picture” and understand that I can’t carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. It’s a mantra I’m trying to incorporate into my daily life, but it’s a slow-moving process. My wife wishes I could disengage. She's constantly reminding me that as hard as I try, I’m not Superman (or even Clark Kent) but that with the addition of several new gray hairs I am more like Perry White.
I probably shouldn’t tell her that my internal monologue has started referring to her Lex.
Someone told me once - prioritize :) In your case? Family - then school/work - then the Mustang (unless that falls under family) - then entertaining the masses on g chat.
ReplyDeleteAnother good one - not so funny - haha....but hits close to home.
Good job my friend :)
Sounds like you need a good dose of music and creative writing (other than the blog) that you can get lost in again. That seemed to be your "escape," at least when I got to chat with you...
ReplyDeleteAs for the Spanish classes... I agree. Landscape Spanish would be great. Hell, instead of Spanish 1, Spanish 2, etc., they should just offer you what would be most beneficial - Landscape Spanish, Restaurant Spanish, Spanglish, Mexican Spanish, Proper Spanish, etc..
With the Mustang - Bryan is always willing to help with cars. It's kinda what he does for a living :)
For sleep - find something relaxing to do before bed. Watch that first 30 mins (if you can make it that long) of a Netflix movie until your eyes are heavy, drink hot tea, take a minute to play with your kids, write one last blog, fall victim to a medically induced coma via Melatonin, whatever floats your boat. Let yourself destress, then dream of boxers in class...
You still have a few years before your daughter will be whisked away by her knight in shining armor wrapped in horsepower. Take Susan's advice - prioritize. Family numero uno (that's number one haha), then school, then the car. Work is just redundant. Been there, done that. You could do that with a pirate patch over one eye and a hook for a hand. Easy.
Lastly, as for a SuperHero Name... Captain Underpants... keeps things light and funny. Is also a means of explanation if you ever do walk into class in just your boxers...